


Blush

by CheekyTorah



Series: The Blaze [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bondage, Bondage and Discipline, Cock Bondage, Dom/sub, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Guilt, Humiliation, Impact Play, Legilimency, Legilimency Kink, Legilimens, M/M, Praise Kink, Punishment, Rope Bondage, Secret Identity, Sexual Roleplay, Situational Humiliation, Spanking, Sub Harry Potter, Verbal Humiliation, Voldemort Kink, mentions of dead characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:48:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyTorah/pseuds/CheekyTorah
Summary: Harry’s overwhelmed with guilt and needs to be punished.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Viper/Harry Potter
Series: The Blaze [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1534814
Comments: 24
Kudos: 398





	Blush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tsundanire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsundanire/gifts), [keyflight790](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/gifts), [Cassiara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiara/gifts).



> I am gifting this to tsundanire to brighten their day.  
> To KeyFlight790 and Cassiara because they enjoy this series and continue to encourage my kinky writing journey!
> 
> Thank you to Cassiara, Kay, Gnarf, Kayden, Mads and Elle for the Alpha help with this piece!
> 
> Shout out to my Beta’s Kayden and Roonil

Eight months. That’s how long Harry had been coming to The Blaze, seeking out the Gold Room in the back, the one that was reserved every Friday evening just for him. The one covered in the golden snitches. He had the resources—the war had made him disgustingly rich—and the status. No one would turn down The Saviour. So from the first time he had walked into The Blaze, he had gotten everything he wanted. This, though—this was about necessity.

He stood in the center of the room, his clothing vanished to Merlin only knew where, and tied the blindfold securely around his head. The temptation to knot it just a bit too loose, so it might slip mid-scene, was always so strong before he got into subspace. His Gryffindor side trying to win over his need for this release, this little bit of reprieve from playing role of the Wixen world’s precious little Chosen One. 

The cool air pricked along his skin, and the hairs over his body stood on end. He shivered, feeling the anticipation coiling in his gut and the adrenaline began to slowly pump through his veins. Did the person he met here always let him wait this long? It felt like forever. It felt like he was just standing here on display. Harry huffed. He probably was. The prick.

_Bratty today, are we?_

“I knew you were there,” Harry said breathily.

_I’m not. You’re early, you eager slut. You can wait, or you can come back next week._

“You know I can’t wait for a week.”

There was no response. Harry grumbled to himself about the unfairness of being made to wait. He ignored the shiver that ran through him when his dominant called him a slut. Unsure how soon the person would arrive, Harry didn’t remove his blindfold. It would all end if he did that. As much as his Gryffindor curiosity burned to know who was delivering him his desires every week, his need for it to continue outweighed that tendency.

The room started to warm, and he knew his time was nearing. He felt relief and desire wash over and surround him, like getting slowly engulfed in a rising tide. His skin almost itched with the need to submit and run at the same time. 

He took a moment to stretch, something he didn’t often do, but he had the time, didn’t he? He reached his arms over his head and felt the pleasant pull at his joints and the warmth in his muscles. As he relaxed, moving to drop his arms at his sides, he heard a chuckle in his mind. Suddenly, a rope coiled around his wrists and snaked down his body.

_I thought I’d get you ready while you wait, Harry._

Harry suppressed a groan as the ropes trailed down his arms and began weaving themselves around his shoulders and abdomen, knotting together as they criss-crossed his body. The rope at his wrists loosened and followed. Soon, he felt a soft pull along his cock and realised the rope had wrapped around his balls and prick, tightening ever so, ensuring he would not finish until it was removed. 

He heard a door open, close, and suddenly there was warm breath on his neck. A hand pulling his head to the side as a new rope bound his wrists together and wrenched them up above him. Harry tested them, pulling lightly, then harder when they wouldn’t budge. He shivered; the ropes at his wrists tightened ever so slightly, and the hand gripped his jaw tight.

_Now don’t be fussy, Harry. You need this. We both know you do._

“I know,” Harry whispered, feeling the edges of his awareness soften, slipping into the fog of subspace.

_You deserve it._

“I do,” Harry whined.

_Tell me._

“Please, please, make me pay.”

_Of course, Harry._

He felt the hand that had gripped his jaw pull away and immediately felt the loss of the cold fingers on his own heated skin. He whimpered and strained towards where he thought the person was, but felt no presence of any warmth radiating from a body. He felt a puff of breath at his navel, and his prick throbbed, and he canted towards it. A chuckle. Breath came again at the rope around his left thigh, and Harry shuddered.

_You are a work of art, Harry, all these ropes tied prettily around your body. But you’re not so beautiful inside, are you? Dirty thoughts, dirty past; you are like a Monet. Beautiful to look at from afar, but up close, you’re just a big old mess._

Harry nodded, the feeling of embarrassment taking over like shedding a costume and leaving him bare, raw, and on display. He felt a need pulsing through his veins and whimpered again. He craved punishment in that moment; memories of what he couldn’t do, what he had allowed to go wrong, and who he had let down overwhelmed him.

“Please,” Harry cried. He would have cringed at his own broken voice, or how easily undone by this person he didn’t know, but he was already too far gone.

The voice sounded farther away this time, and fear ran through Harry briefly, like maybe the person was leaving him like this.

_How do you like to be punished? I know humiliation is high up on your list, but let’s give you something new today._

Harry struggled against the ropes, causing them to just tighten more.

_I think you deserve a spanking, Harry. And I know you’re going to want the paddle. I don’t even need to ask you; I’m in your head, aren’t I?_

Harry nodded, the burn in his eyes a telltale sign that tears of humiliation were gathering there. 

“Please, it’s all my fault; I need to be punished.”

_I know, Harry._

He felt breath on his spine and a clammy forehead pressed against his shoulder blade before he received a bite to his soft flesh. The feeling made his cock throb and ache to be touched.

_Admit your wrongdoings, Potter._

Harry felt a tight, painful squeeze to his chest as he took a deep breath, trying to steady his voice. He felt the guilt all over his skin like mud. He felt dirty and bad, the weight on his chest sucking the life out of him.

“I’m the reason my parents died.” He spoke slowly, but the waver in his tone remained.

Slap! Harry felt the first strike along the back of his right thigh, above his knee, and it sent a wave of heat through his leg.

“I asked Cedric to take hold of the Cup with me, so because of me, he was killed, too,” Harry whispered.

Smack! He felt the blow to his other thigh, higher though, just below his arse. He felt a shiver as the hairs on his body stood up. He hissed, though the pain was practically nonexistent so far.

“My cousin was attacked by a Dementor because of me.”

Snap!

“Sirius was killed because I fell for a stupid trap!” A tear slipped down Harry’s cheek, and he gasped, not from the pain of the beating, but from the guilt. From the loss of his godfather. The pain so intense he felt like he was drowning.

Crack!

“Hedwig was killed protecting me.”

Thwack! The wood, warm from use, landed across the meat of his side.

“I attacked an innocent person. He didn’t deserve it. He was terrified and alone, too. Thrown into war as a child, just like the rest of us, and I nearly killed him.” Harry choked out, his breath ragged and the pain in his arse, back, and legs finally beginning to overcome that ache in his heart.

“Hermione lost her parents, not that they died, but she Obliviated herself from their lives forever so she could help me.”

“Dobby died to protect me, to save me and my friends, who were in danger because of me,” Harry sobbed, tears in his eyes.

“People died for me because I couldn’t end it sooner, because I wasn’t strong enough to kill him in time. Remus, Tonks, Fred, Colin, Lavender, Snape.”

“For how I thought S-S-Severus S-S-Snape was evil, ev-even as far as thinking he was trying to k-k-kill us all for y-years. My father treated him horribly, and he never deserved it. In the end, he was on our side. Wanting to p-p-p-protect me my entire l-l-l-life.”

The blows continued, one for every mistake he made in his life, for everything that was his fault, the pain he caused. His body ached, and his knees shook from supporting his weight the weaker he got.

“For being happy sometimes, despite everything I’ve done. For not trying harder to be happy and honour the sacrifices. But worst of all, I miss having that disgusting monster in my head, and it makes me feel so alone,” Harry sobbed, his whole body trembling and wrecked with emotional pain, sweat dripping down his body.

As if resisting, the final strike didn’t come right away. After a few silent moments, the only sound in the room was Harry’s whimpers, the finishing blow hit Harry across both cheeks. Harry screamed, tears pouring down his face, and he went slack, his legs giving way. Warm, strong arms caught him swiftly, pulling Harry against a lean, hard body and wrapping him up in a gentle embrace.

“Shhhh...” a voice breathed into his ear, but Harry was wracked with tears and laboured breaths.

His arms were still bound over his head; the rope tugged at his abdomen, gripped his cock and balls, and ended around his thighs, but Harry let himself sag as much as he was able to against the warmth and stability. The ropes seemed to loosen, and then his arms dropped around the neck of the man holding him.

They stayed like that until Harry’s tears stopped, and his breathing slowed. He felt fingers carding through his hair and squeeze the back of his neck. A wordless drying charm was cast over the blindfold, and Harry sighed with relief. The man wrapped a muscled arm tight around Harry’s waist, pressing his prick against Harry’s hip. His cock twitched with interest, and against Harry’s will, his own did, too.

Harry moaned. He felt his blush travel over his cheeks, down his chest and right to his navel. 

_You took your punishment so well, Harry. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?_

Harry whimpered in response.

_You know the rules; I don’t want you to come until I say so._

“Yes,” Harry hissed.

He felt his arms yanked above him once more, and the man knelt to the ground in front of him. He trailed his tongue along Harry’s body, around the knots and lifting up only to move over sweat-soaked rope. His tongue delved into Harry’s navel, and Harry’s cock throbbed with desire. 

_So good for me, Harry. Such a good boy._

Harry groaned at the praise and felt pre-come leak from his prick in long, slow twitches. He wanted release. His body thrummed with a need so deep and so strong he felt overwhelmed by it.

_Mmm, can’t wait to taste you, bet you taste so delicious._

A thick, wet tongue met the slit at the head of his cock and tentatively tasted the fluid before hungrily lapping up the rest that had spilled down his shaft. As he took Harry deep into his throat, Harry moaned and canted into the skilled mouth. The man on his knees before him groaned, and Harry felt the vibrations around him and bucked again. Fuck, it felt so good. So perfect.

Harry wished he had a name to call him—

_Viper. Call me Viper if you must call me something._

But Harry didn’t want to call him Viper.

The lips around his prick smiled, and he pulled off with a pop.

_You want to call me by his name, don’t you? You really are more fucked than any of us. Dirty fantasies about a boy who likely still hates your guts. Does it get you going, knowing that he hates you, that he would have killed you all those years ago?_

“He wouldn’t have!” Harry choked out, though his cock throbbed, knowing he was partly right. “Malfoy saved my life.”

There was a pause, a moment where the air felt stale and heavy, before Viper responded.

_Go on then. Call me Malfoy, P-Harry._

Harry’s arms suddenly dropped, the bonds on his wrists pulled in front, and he was dragged across the room. His heart hammered in his chest as he was leaned over a bench. Slick fingers pressed against his hole, and Harry moaned, pressing back against them.

_Colour?_

“Green, just fuck me already, Malfoy!”

He heard a breath hitch behind him, and one of his long, slender digits breached him. Slowly, as the finger worked him open, he felt another slide in beside it. The two curved and nudged his prostate, and Harry keened. 

“Faster, you fuck!” Harry growled.

_You like this, Harry? Like being at the mercy of someone you hate, who hates you?_

“Call me Potter. Malfoy—he calls me Potter.”

_Look at you gagging for my pureblood cock, Potter. What would your friends say if they saw you like this? Whining, begging, craving me inside you? How would they react to perfect little Saint Potter and his need for thick Malfoy cock splitting him open, owning him, claiming him?_

“Yes. Oh, Merlin yes, fuck,” Harry moaned. 

Viper—no, Malfoy—withdrew his fingers, and Harry whimpered at the loss, his hole clenching at the emptiness. He felt the thick head of Malfoy’s cock pressed against his entrance and pushed against it, just needing to feel full again. The burn was exquisite, the length and girth of his cock filling Harry entirely. 

_Take it like the cock slut you are, Potter._

Harry loved every twitch, every slow drag, and every thrust opening him up more. He groaned and felt blunt fingernails dragged across his back. He felt them dig into the blooms of bruises on his sore arse and moaned wantonly. His lame attempt to rut against the bench had Malfoy slapping him across the arse and pulling him up by the hair.

_You’ll come from my cock up your arse; that is all. You know the rules; you come untouched here._

“Yes, please,” Harry cried, lost in his pleasure. “Just let me come, please, I need to come.”

Malfoy thrust desperately hard once, twice, and then pulled Harry up by the bonds on his wrist and whispered harshly, breath hot on his ear.

“Come for me, Potter.”

Harry screamed as the ropes around his cock and balls vanished, and he exploded white ropes of come into the unknown. Harry felt Malfoy—no, Viper, he reminded himself vaguely—pulse inside him, filling him up with his own release. 

Slowly, Harry felt the fog set in, and he sagged against the warm body once again. Viper vanished the rest of the ropes and wrapped him in a warm blanket. He sat Harry on a couch, brought him water, and just held him for far longer than he ever had before. 

_Keep your blindfold on, and I’ll stay until you fall asleep. When you wake up, your aftercare specialist will be here to care for you in my stead._

“Please.” Harry’s throat was dry. His hands shook too much, so Viper brought the glass to his lips and helped him drink.

_In your right mind, you know this is for the best. You are too far gone to make that decision now. Rest. I’ll stay ‘til you fall asleep._

“Thank you, Viper.”

And Harry slowly drifted off to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> The accompanying art work was so amazingly created by the fabulous @upthehillart! Find them on Tumblr -> @upthehillart/@upthehillartnsfw or on Instagram or Pillowfort!!!


End file.
